Naisei
by Pikachumaniac
Summary: Translated ‘Introspection’ Yami no Malik ponders his life and existence in order to figure out the reason for his current behavior, only to come out with the most interesting conclusion.


Disclaimer: Not mine. *sniffle*

Naisei ~ Translated 'Introspection'; Yami no Malik ponders his life and existence in order to figure out the reason for his current behavior, only to come out with the most interesting conclusion.

The point of this story was to make Yami no Malik seem human. How well I succeeded at that, I do not know. And _why _I would want to do this is beyond me. I don't even like Yami no Malik. *sigh*

In order to clear things up, Yami no Malik is not the spirit of the Sennen Rod. He was created from Malik's dark feelings, and first emerged when Malik's father nearly killed Rishid. _That_ is the basis I use when writing this story.

Many thanks to Nephthys-san and rayemars-san for proofreading.

This story is blamed on Neko-chan. Not dedicated to her… _blamed_ on her. *sticks tongue out* So I hope you enjoy it.

He asked me, yesterday, if there was reason behind my madness. One would think that he was as insane as I to ask such an inane question, but he was half delirious with pain when he asked. I doubt he expected an answer; perhaps he asked merely to stop the pain, if even for a brief moment.

The question comes back, a day later, as if it hopes to taunt me. But if it, a mere question, thinks that it can annoy me, it is quite mistaken. I am rarely annoyed, as if my capacity to feel that petty emotion was not inserted into my data when I was created out of my host's hate and despair, because I know there really is no reason to be. These types of things, like most emotions, are fleeting and easily done away with. So why bother to care about such things if they are never going to last? It seems pointless to me, but just about everything is pointless in my eyes.

So when he asked me why I did any of this, I did not brush away his question as a product of hysteria brought about by the pain I caused him. After all, torture was once and happily still is used to force people to confess. Pain, like darkness, is one of the few things that actually matter in this world. It _lasts._

This question too lasts, for it is unanswerable. Reason behind madness? Is that supposed to be some kind of joke? Isn't it really just some type of contradiction, a paradox? How do I answer a question that cannot be answered?

But when he asked, his eyes bright with his own madness, it was as if he truly believed there was an answer.

It never occurred to me that a reason for all this was necessary. When one's goal is to plunge the world into eternal night, he is rarely asked _why_ he does all of this. People are usually a bit too preoccupied with stopping him to worry about such petty things as the reasoning behind the madness, as if there actually was a viable answer.

Which there wasn't.

Take my own creation, for instance. Why do _I _exist? I am supposedly the physical manifestation of my host's dark emotions, but if that is the case why am I a leech? It is still my body, and I am still him. True, I lack the qualities that make me _human_ like goodness, but who needs those types of things anyway? How they won't admit that the only reason why people do 'nice' things is because deep down, they just want something they seemingly can't live without.

I have nothing, as I was not supposed to exist, so I don't need anything either. _He_ and his meaningless friends… they think I do this out of want or need.

Need? Need of what, exactly? Unlike them, I don't _need_ anything. Why I do what I do, I cannot quite say because I don't know. Perhaps it is mere distraction so I don't think about my illogical existence.

It is not, however, need to be distracted. If I was to spend the rest of my life pondering my existence, I wouldn't particularly care. Again, is it merely annoyance, and that is one of the many things that I will not waste my time worrying about.

I am, supposedly, a creature of darkness. I like the darkness, it suits me. It covers my being and allowed me to function without worrying about anybody else.

That thief though… Bakura… the one who believed he was darkness but was instead consumed by it. He is pale and his hair much too white. He is the physical personification of light, yet he claims that he _is_ the darkness. But then how does this explain the darkness consuming him?

Light cannot stand up to the darkness, after all.

He might have enjoyed it, granted, but it doesn't change the fact that he is not here right now because control was beyond his reach. His claims are unfounded; rather than him controlling, he is overwhelmed by it.

Thus, he is not darkness.

Am I?

I was created from anger, from hate, from pain. I was born into this world from despair and hysteria. Is it any wonder that I am the way I am?

People hate me because I am darkness, as if I could control who I was. I had no say in my creation, nor can I control what was given to me. Nevertheless, I am who I am, and I don't particularly mind if they hate me or fear me.

At least those feelings are genuine.

If somebody loved me (why they would, I wouldn't know), I would be disgusted. Love, like, and happiness are not real things.

I am darkness.

You hate me for that, don't you. You're like all the others, aren't you. You are _no_ different from the others.

I don't really care, you know. If you wish to hate me, go ahead. I can't stop you, nor do I wish to. I honestly don't care. But if you pity me….

Pity is given by those who don't want to become the person they pity. They see someone and they may express some pathetic form of condolence… but _inside_, they're just relieved that it's not them. If people pity me, something that I highly doubt would ever happen, it's because they see something that they are disgusted by. I am the equivalent of demon spawn, if people's attitudes are anything to judge by, and they are happy that they are not me.

At least, that's what they want to think.

I tend to shrug it off and let them think that. After all, I really don't care. People eventually dissipate, so their opinions don't matter. My opinions don't matter either, but that's a different story. In my opinion.

Sometimes though, I cannot help but get overly annoyed by the inane babbling of goodness and sympathy and nonexistent crap like that. They lecture me on these thing without knowing what they speak about, and they dare to look me in the eye as they lie. But most of the time, they can barely manage that. I suppose I disgust them to much to warrant enough respect to be looked at.

Those are one of the few things I want to lash out at the hypocrisy of people. I am darkness, it is true. I hate people, I torture people, I kill people, I hurt people who have done 'nothing' wrong (to me, at least), and I revel in their screams as they _finally_ hurt as much as I do.

The difference between me and them, darkness and light, I and _you_… is that I don't lie about it.

I don't lie about how much I enjoy this, if enjoy is the right word… truly, it is a bitter satisfaction that I have made people suffer too. They make me hurt because I was created for no reason than to be hurt. They think I feel no pain because I am pain, but they could not be farther off from the truth.

I hurt. I feel pain. I wither each day in constant agony, but I confine these things to my mental life rather than my physical existence. I smile, I laugh, I try to ignore this constant pain that comes from being who I am.

I am bitter, and I personally believe I have a right to be. _I did not create myself, _yet people have the sad misconception that I want to be here.

Is it possible that I pity you all.

Ha! Pity is given by those who are happy that they are not the person they pity. And I am very, very pleased that I am not you.

I am darkness, pure and simple. _You_ are darkness hiding behind pointless facades of goodness. And I pity you for fighting bitterly against your fate. You long for darkness but you fight against it. You look down on the people who embody the things you really want. You lie in order to remain pure. Your lives are pathetic attempts to be people you are not and can never be.

And I cannot help but pity you for being such blind, helpless fools.

Perhaps I do this as my gift to you all. Perhaps I do this out of the pity of my seemingly nonexistent heart. Perhaps…?

I do this because you want this. But since you cannot… I do it for you.

You see, he asked me yesterday why I do this. I didn't have an answer then, but I do now. Soon, I will share with him what my introspection has shown me. I will give him the reason behind the madness, but it's not really madness anymore, is it?

I do this for you.

I have a feeling that he will not like the answer, even though it's true. He will thank me insane, no doubt, but that does not change the facts. He will not want to accept those facts, but they remain nevertheless.

He will deny it, saying that I am wrong. But I am not wrong. Secretly, he will be pleased that the darkness has realized his silent plea for release, but he will not voice it. Still, I will give them what they all want. I do this not out of kindness but pity, I have nothing better to do anyway.

I will give you want you all want. You and he will resist me, but you cannot resist what is within you.

I am the darkness.

And I pity you.

__

~ owari ~

April 18, 2003

*coughs* I'll try harder next time. Poor, scary Yami no Malik. Poor, bored, insane PM….

Pikachumaniac


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